The Photograh or Color or Black and White
by Startisparticus2017
Summary: Twenty something years later Captain Hutchinson stands in the window of Captain Dobey's former office with a color photograph. Episode related. Special thank you to my Beta Reader Sandy, and Maryellen for support and input.


**STARSKY & HUTCH**

Writing prompt: SHFAFF

By: Startisparticus2017

 **I do not own the characters. I simply borrow them for entertainment purposes and do not receive compensation for these stories or characters.**

aka Color or Black and White- **The Photograph**

Hutch, older and wiser and fifteen pounds heavier displayed in a suit and tie, sat at a desk. Although this was Bay City PD, it wasn't the table style desk from the past. This was his office, his precinct and he was in command now. He sat back in a plush chocolate colored leather chair and seemed a million miles away in thought.

He sported a goatee, his hair thinner and shorter. On the desk were two well-framed pictures; one of him and a beautiful woman, although younger versions, and a blonde girl in a graduation gown. He focused his still-vibrant blue eyes upon them and smiled but there in the background was a sadness and faraway look that threatened to overtake the moment.

A knock on his office door brought him back to reality, he sighed. "Come in."

The likeness of the beautiful woman from the picture entered, she smiled. She dressed like a professional, black jacket and matching skirt. She was an older version of the image on his desk. "Hey, thought I'd stop in before I leave."

Hutch stood and made his way to the other side of the desk and wrapped his arms around her. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. He brushed a wisp of brunette hair from her face. "What do you say we lock the door, like the old days?"

She blushed as she ran her hands up and down his chest. "Ken, in those days you were a detective, and I was a law student. But I like the way you think." She leaned in and kissed him passionately.

Hutch sighed and stepped back; he couldn't take his eyes off her. "Laura you are beautiful, here we are almost twenty years married." He winked at her.

Laura sensed something was bothering her husband. She touched his face gently with her right hand. "What is it, Ken?" She placed her left hand on her hip and glared at him. "I don't want the same answer you've given me for the last two weeks."

Hutch went to his desk and glared out the window; he reached into his dark navy blue suit coat pocket and retrieved a photograph. The burden that emanated from his features sent a tone of uneasiness to Laura. Hutch held the photo between his fingers; he glanced out the window that faced the parking lot. "Twenty-two years ago this very day I almost lost everything. Right out there, in that very parking lot." He bowed his head. "I swear I still can see the blood stains."

Laura sat in the tan and brown chair in front of the desk, she crossed her legs but kept her focus on her husband. She bowed her head took a deep breath. "Your partner?"

Hutch stared at the picture that he held so tightly between his fingers. The edges were worn, the color faded. The picture was of his partner in a hospital bed with a silver serving tray on his lap smiling that goofy narcotic painkiller high. He rubbed his thumb on the edges and grunted softly. "Starsky was shot, three bullets. He was dubbed a miracle."

The blond walked around the desk and leaned against it, his eyes never strayed from the photo between his fingers. "They said he wouldn't make it, but he did. His future unknown, they said he'd never return to the street; but he did." He closed his eyes; he remembered Starsky in the hospital bed laughing uncontrollably when he hijacked the platter of veal and champagne into the hospital along with Captain Dobey and Huggy.

He extended the photograph to his wife slowly almost unwilling to let it go. She looked at it and smiled. "So, this is the ghost I've been competing with all these years?" She chuckled; a playful smirk crossed her face. "You didn't tell me he was so handsome, Ken?"

Rubbing his forehead with his right hand, the blond shook his head and chuckled. "He was that and some; all you had to do was ask him." The smile disappeared and Hutch's shoulders became rigid; he rubbed his chin.

"Damn you, James Gunther. It was all due to sweet revenge." He spoke his thoughts out loud.

Laura handed the photo back to her husband. "I've heard the stories from the department and Harold Dobey. He was so proud of you Ken, and your partner. I remember his retirement party just before we married. Then when he passed, I met Huggy Bear for the first time. Why haven't you shared this with me before now, the photo-any photo?" Her face held concern.

Hutch placed the photo in his coat pocket and walked over to the file cabinet and pulled the last drawer open as he grumbled from the efforts of bending over. He pulled a shoe box out; he nudged the drawer closed with his foot. He held the box as though it were a prized possession. He placed the box on his desk and opened it, then put the lid back on. "It's all here Laura. It was once the best years of my life, with my partner, and best friend, the academy, then nine years of partnership." He glanced at his wife and winked. "Well, that is until you and Terry."

The sadness made its appearance again. Hutch rubbed the back of his neck and momentarily looked back out the window. "I tried to push it all away, keep it in the past. I thought it would be for the best." He touched the box with his fingers that trembled slightly.

Laura stood and approached her husband. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and leaned against him. "Ken you never really told me what happened. I won't press you on it, but maybe it's time you face this handsome ghost and put it all to rest. Since I've known you, certain times of the year you get quiet and moody." She tenderly kissed the dazed man. "Listen, I am going to miss my flight if I don't get out of here. Take the time you have coming and resolve this. I love you."

Hutch wrapped his arm around his wife. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. He knew she was right. "Yeah, easier said than done. I love you too."

Sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssss

A brown Crown Victoria pulled up to the curb. Behind the wheel was Hutch dressed in a more casual format of blue jeans, black western boots and baby blue shirt and mocha colored suede bomber. He exited the car and entered a newer version of The Pitts called Maison de L'our or House of the Bear.

The tables were black with matching chairs, the floor glossed from a well-manicured wax. The clientele was not as shady as the old days. The pool table was the original and sat in the far corner. The waitresses wore white and purple accented shirts and black legging styled shorts.

Hutch walked up to the bar, he adjusted his jeans and tugged at his belt buckle that displayed a bronze bucking bronco.

"May lightning strike me as I stand in the presence of the one and only, Goldie Locks."

The voice carried over the eighties music that played overhead. Hutch turned to see Huggy leaning against a booth, still thin but older. He wore black slacks and white long-sleeved purple accented shirt. A dash of grey peppered the thin layer of cropped hair. Hutch shook his head and made his way over toward the lean man. He extended his hand out, Huggy chuckled and grasped his hand tightly and leaned in for a hug.

"I haven't seen you in forever, compadre. Diggin' the Fu Manchu." Huggy motioned for him to sit in the booth.

They sat and looked each other over, Hutch smiled and glanced around. "This place is classy, Hug. You look great. It has been a long time hasn't it?"

Huggy sat and looked at the older version of half of the duo; he sensed something was awry. He motioned for one of the waitresses. "What can I get you? How about water with lemon and ice or for old times' sake a beer?"

Hutch smiled and pulled at his shirt sleeve. "Make it a whiskey."

The petite waitress acknowledged and walked away. Huggy looked at the man before him, he sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your kid and Laura have been here a few times. That kid of yours has a mouth on her just like your partner. Might I ad she makes her Uncle Huggy proud." The dark eyes washed over the blue eyed man before him. "Spill it Blondie; ya got something on your mind."

Hutch rubbed his goatee with his fingers, his hand slightly trembled. The mere nickname his partner called him so long ago set a floodgate of emotions into a spiral. "Do you know what today is?"

The thin black man shrugged his shoulder and thought for a moment. "Wednesday? You got me."

Hutch pulled the photo from his shirt pocket, held it within his fingers. "Twenty-two years ago today I almost lost him to Gunther; a year later this very day he went away…I drove him away." As he spoke, his voice seemed to age, forming a thickness in his throat.

Huggy's face held suppressed emotions and discomfort. He looked away from the sad form before him. The waitress placed the drinks and walked away. Hutch took the shot glass, raised it and drank in all in one swallow.

Stern, blue pleading eyes rose to meet Huggy's gaze. "The last three months I feel him, for the past two weeks I can't get him out of my mind. Something is wrong, very wrong. Where is he, Hug?"

Huggy sipped the dark liquid from his glass. He avoided the drilling pools of blue that beamed toward him. "One soul that shares two halves, the blond half sits before me. What makes you think I know where he is?"

Although seasoned, the Hutchinson stare still held weight and a no-nonsense venue. What came next was not a surprise to Huggy, the Hutchinson right-hand finger pointed at him backed with a rigid jawline.

"I don't think, I know, and you know! I know he was here for Dobey's funeral. Dobey's along with Terry's grave have fresh flowers every year. I've verified, they are not from family." He leaned in closer to make a point. "You disappear for three days twice a year in July and February."

Huggy sipped once again, he sighed. "Once a detective, always a detective, Blondie! You got surveillance on me or something?" Huggy slammed his hand onto the table and tilted his head. "Like I told Curly, a Starsky ain't complete without a Hutch, and the two of you are jive turkeys." He grabbed the glass of whiskey and chugged it.

Hutch backed away, his eyes less intense but still begged for any information regarding his former partner. "Hug, I can't explain it…something is tugging at me deep inside. I-I feel it!" The trembling right hand placed over his upper chest and heart.

Silence hung in the air; Huggy rubbed his forehead and looked at the blond before him. "I saw him at Dobey's funeral. He made Captain in New York, met a beauty by the name of Alexandra, and married her eight months after he left. They lived in Canada for a spell, returned. He had a boy named him Kenneth Michael. The stunned smirk on Hutch's face melted Huggy's heart.

"Kenneth Michael…huh?" Hutch chuckled.

The blond raised his eyes to meet the chocolate brown eyes across from him. The deer in the headlight look that emanated from the longtime friend sent a chill down his spine. "You said he had a boy."

Long trembling fingers covered the thin former informant's mouth. His eyes pooled, he coughed and cleared his throat. "He graduated from the police academy four months ago. He…huh was killed protecting his partner from a hit going down, according to Alexandra. He died two weeks ago today." He turned away. "She called me this morning."

Hutch blanched, he couldn't speak or move. His eyes pooled.

Huggy motioned for two more shots of whiskey. He leaned forward on his elbow. "Hutch, Alexandra or Lex as he calls her, divorced Starsky three months ago; she didn't want her son a cop like his dad and uncle. I haven't heard from him in three months; he doesn't answer the emergency number he gave me."

Huggy played with the glass in front of him; he raised his eyes to meet Hutch's. "I was planin' on calling you today. That kid was everything to him. Lex called to tell me he resigned, attended the funeral and left. She mentioned he owns property here in Bay City, Uncle Al, and Aunt Rosie's place. The feast-de-resistance is there's a hit out on him according to NYPD." Huggy pinched his lips together; stress glazed his features. "He sold his mother's place after the divorce; she passed away in a nursing home years ago."

The waitress placed two shot glasses of whiskey and retrieved the empty ones. Hutch covered his face with both hands upon her departure. "That was two years ago, his mother." He slid his hands down slowly; his stomach turned, his heart ached.

"Why didn't you tell me three months ago, two years ago…? Better yet when I ran around like a crazed man for six months looking for him!" The blond snapped his voice crisp with anger and frustration.

Huggy reached into his shirt pocket and pulled a piece of paper and slammed it on the table in front of Hutch. "The way I look at it my man is you and Curly created this mess, fix it. Ya cut all your ties to the past, including me. He had his reasons, not for me to defend or judge."

Huggy took a long sip of the dark liquid and exited the booth. "The drinks are on me."

Hutch sat and watched him walk away. He refocused his attention onto the slip of paper and slowly opened it with jittery fingers. The piece of paper contained two phone numbers; a license plate number that matched the Torino's, except a New York plate 537 ONN along with a description of a car. Mid 90's Ford Cobra Mustang, candy apple red with a white stripe. It brought a brief smile to the blond's face.

hhhhhhhhhsssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Hutch drove to a familiar neighborhood and pulled up in front of a garage and house. He put the car in park; he sat for a moment. Then exited the car slowly, working a few aches and pains out as he did so. He retrieved a key from his car keys and went to the garage door. He slowly and carefully unlocked it and turned the handle and pulled the door up. Inside was Starsky's car, the very same 1975 candy apple red Torino, it was polished, not a speck of dust. He stood and stared at it for several minutes. "The striped tomato!"

He pulled the door back down and locked it and walked up the stairs. The very same stairs he'd sprinted two at a time to see his buddy. He unlocked the door and walked in; it was the same as his partner left it those many years ago. The groovy vibes of the 70's and the multicolored striped blanket was draped over the back of the couch.

Hutch walked around, stood by the shelving unit where several vacant spots were open. The very spots that housed pictures his partner took with him. "I always thought you'd come back, Buddy. I must have really ticked you off." He looked around, a smile formed and a note of mischievousness. "Father's money was put to good use. Thank you, Hutchinson family fortune."

ssssssssssshhhhhhhhhsssssssssssssssss

Across town in a vacant garage and house sat a candy apple Cobra. David Starsky walked into the abandoned house that belonged to his Uncle Al and Aunt Rosie. The brunet swaggered in, he was slightly older, and grey accented the well-manicured head of curls. Despite the dark circles under his eyes and solemn features, he looked the same. He wore a black leather jacket; faintly worn with fitted jeans and biker boots. A Chinese coin necklace hung from his neck with the same black suede styled cord from yesteryear.

He sat at the 1950's style table and opened a manila envelope that lay there. "Time to let this all go and start a new life, Davey."

He reached inside the envelope and found the deed to the house and garage. His fingers carefully pulled the multiple white envelopes apart and placed them on the table.

Starsky felt emotions rise; he retrieved another envelope that had his name on it, the nickname his partner used, Starsk. He took a deep breath and opened the sealed envelope. Two sets of keys fell onto the table. His fingers were clumsy and awkward as he pulled what looks like a deed. He read the address. "2848 Ridgeway."

Inside was a folded note; he opened it quickly.

"Starsk, I put my father's fortune to good use. He never forgave me for becoming a cop or you for coercing me. After Gunther, you almost lost your car, the apartment, everything. I never told you because you would have had my hide. I decided what is mine, is yours. I purchased your apartment, paid your car repairs off with Merle rather than junk the striped tomato. The car's title is enclosed.

After my downslide, Kira and Gunther, it all got more and more difficult. You left, and I never had the opportunity to tell you. I asked Aunt Rosie to keep this a secret, and she assured me that you would get this.

I know this may sound crazy, but I go there and check on the car and sometimes just sit and play your albums. I hoped someday you'd return. Maybe eventually forgive me. I miss you, Buddy. Hutch"

Starsky's hands shook; he dropped the note and deed. His heart was heavy and a lump formed in his throat. He blinked several times as he fought back the tears. "Forgive you? It wasn't your fault, Blintz."

He reached inside his jacket and pulled a tattered black and white picture. He ran his thumb over it gently. It was a picture of he and Hutch; he was riding piggyback on the blond. His fingers touched the worn edges, he smiled. "Ya big, Lummox. I never would have made it without ya. Leave it to you to think ya did something wrong."

He was distracted by a knock on the door. He grabbed all the paperwork and placed them in the inner pocket of his jacket. He scooped the keys and put them in his pants pocket and went to the door.

At the door stood a man, he wore a tie and dressed in professional attire. The man extended his business card. "David Starsky, my name is Xavier Channeling. I am here for the estate assessment.

Starsky waved him in. "My Uncle and Aunt made a list, which I have, photos of every item and copies." He handed the key to Xavier. "You have my cell number; I gotta be somewhere."

The man stood holding the key, as he scoped the surrounding room he stood in and sighed. "It was nice meeting you, I think." His face cringed.

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Hutch dusted the shelves and listened to music. The song brought him back to a much happier time. He smirked as he leaned onto the shelving unit with his shoulder, he sang along. "Sundown you better take care, if I find you been creepin' 'round my back stairs."

The record skipped, he turned and stopped it. The apartment door creaked behind him. Hutch froze; he moved his eyes to the side, his mouth open. He felt a sudden rush and presence that he hadn't felt in a long time and turned. There stood his former partner, motionless on the threshold of the doorway.

Hutch stopped breathing for a moment. His voice cracked. "Starsky?"

Starsky took a few steps in and stopped near the couch. "Yeah, it's me, Hutch. That song always skipped." He looked around and smiled and shook his head. "It looks the same as it did twenty- somethin' years ago."

He noticed sitting on the counter was his badge, holster, and gun. It struck a nerve; he inhaled through his nose and exhaled through parted lips. He enclosed the space, exhibiting the Starsky strut and confidence. "I'll have a check drawn and pay ya back."

Hutch bowed his head. "Consider it a gift. My father never forgave you or me. May he rest in peace?"

Starsky smirked, he was extremely uncomfortable. He fidgeted with his hands scratching his head. "Sorry about your dad. I…ah…like the short hair and goatee, better than that caterpillar over your lip! Always thought ya looked like a porn star."

Hutch rubbed his face and laughed. "You never did like that, Buddy. Porn Star?" The familiar name he called his ex-partner slipped his lips without thinking. He blushed.

Silence hung between them. Hutch approached cautiously. He displayed a slight limp from being on his feet too long in one spot. "Starsk, I want…I want to…for God sakes, what do you say after twenty-two years?"

Starsky looked away; he was unsettled. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath. "Let's skip the traditional Happy Anniversary Hallmark Greeting." A partial million dollar smile formed. "How 'bout it's good to see ya."

Hutch inched his way closer; he reached his right hand out to his former partner and friend. Starsky shuffled from one foot to the other, extended his right hand out and grasped Hutch's hand. They both awkwardly pulled away with strained smiles.

"I saw the announcement in the paper; Terry's a beautiful girl. Laura's a looker." Starsky spoke softly as he played with his fingers. "Aunt Rosie sent me clippings; she passed away last fall. Uncle Al passed away three years ago. I um…came to settle the estate."

Hutch wanted to touch his friend like he had done in the past to comfort him. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm proud of Terry. I'm sorry about Uncle Al and Aunt Rosie." The blond walked past the brunet as he began to pace. "She's as beautiful and as caring as her namesake. She's tossed between being a cop or special needs teacher."

Hutch named his daughter after Terry Roberts, Starsky's former fiancée who died at the clutches of George Prudholm in revenge of his son Gary.

They were so close physically yet so far apart. Both were uncomfortable discussing the past, present or future.

Hutch couldn't stand it anymore, and his emotions were boiling over like a pot of boiling water. He stopped and turned to face his former partner. "Starsk, why did you leave?"

The question hung in the air; the silence deafened both men. Starsky bowed his head, his body physically shook. He sighed to gain control before it was noticed and sat on the arm of the couch. "You…me, us." He raised his eyebrows and ran his left hand through his hair. "Ya never would have taken the lieutenants exam or left the streets. I didn't want ya to become a casualty like everyone in my life."

Starsky pulled at the sleeve of the leather jacket. He bowed his head as though he were ashamed or felt guilty. "After Gunther, ya nursed me back to health." He took a deep breath, smirked. "A little bossy if ya ask me." The brief moment of lightheartedness disappeared. "Ya let your apartment go, moved in here. The doom and gloom pulled a disappearin' act, and you were Hutch again."

Hutch sat on the coffee table near what appeared to be a shell of the man he once knew, defeated and lost. Although physically he seemed sound, emotionally was entirely another story. He could feel the once bottle half full now was the bottle half empty.

Starsky cleared his throat. "They told us I wouldn't make it. Told us I wouldn't return to the streets…we proved them wrong, didn't we?" He raised his eyebrows, pulled his chin in and raised his eyes. "We were invincible, so we thought until, Kira."

Hutch leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "That was my fault."

Starsky raised his eyes to meet the still guilt-ridden partner of his. He took a deep breath. "It takes two to tango, Blondie." Starsky walked to the window, he crossed his arms over his chest and glanced briefly at the still motionless figure that sat behind him. "I almost got ya killed; I failed ya…failed us."

Hutch turned his head; he was stunned. "You're talking about the case we were on before you left. It was your first case after Gunther!" His shoulders rose as he stared at the man standing in front of the window. "Starsky, I overreacted. We were both raw. You…you were a miracle!"

Starsky turned around and waved his left hand upward to prove a point. "I second-guessed, and ya almost paid for it. We both were feeling the sting, and side effects." His voice rose, years of guilt trickling through the tone. "I froze and almost cost you your life; I took a year of your life nursing my sorry ass back to health only to let ya down. I wasn't about to ruin your future, so…I left before I got you killed."

Hutch stood, both his hands cupped his face as he took a deep breath. He slid his hands down slowly. "Well, that was stupid!" He snapped.

"Of all the stupid, idiotic, lame-brained things! Did I mention stupid? You turn around and pull the mother hen routine on me?" Hutch shook his head. "That's just great! All these years I thought if I had backed off, not overreacted and let you fend for yourself, let you breathe. You decided to go all Mother Cabrini on me to save me from the world." The anger within the blond flushed his skin. He began to pace rapidly; an old leg injury reminded him to slow down.

Starsky turned and headed for the door slowly. The confident swagger looked more like the hunch back of Notre Dame. He stopped at the door. "I…I'm sorry, Hutch. I'd do it all again if it meant ya was safe."

Hutch was fired up, his body trembled. He shortened the distance between them. "You're sorry? You are sorry! That's just great!" He croaked a throaty fake laugh as he nodded. "You felt the need to make choices for me, buddy. You take off with no reasonable explanation and left me thinking I did something to piss you off." The anger simmered through icy blue eyes. "It wasn't the first time you made decisions for me; remember the time when you paid Gillian off? We know how that turned out! How did it all turn out for you, Captain Marvel?" As the question left the blond's lips, he immediately felt the impact of his words and regretted what he said. He rubbed his forehead with his right hand.

Starsky raised his right hand and rubbed his trembling thumb slowly across his bottom lip. His eyes welled up with tears that threatened to fall. He stood with his back to Hutch, his chin quivered. His eyes closed briefly and blinked several times. Reality slammed his heart and soul. His body appeared to shrink; his shoulders lowered as he crossed and wrapped his arms around as though embracing himself.

Hutch raised his hands up and grabbed the back of his head; he was angry, hurt and most of all he needed the dark curly haired man back in his life. He quickly shortened the gap between them, he reached his right hand out and pulled on Starsky's arm and turned him around gently and slowly. For the first time he not only saw pain, loss, and defeat, he saw fear and grief.

Starsky gritted his teeth. "I…I lost my kid. I couldn't protect him. Lex left me. I just wanted ya to be safe." The tears that pooled began their downward stream.

Hutch pulled the brunet into his arms and held him. He cupped his left hand behind the sobbing man's head and buried his head into his shoulder. "I'm sorry." A sob escaped his lips. "I'm so sorry. I'm here, buddy. I'm here!"

Sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssssssss

Hutch sat on the couch and finished a call. His jacket was draped over the back of the sofa. He folded the flip cell phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. He sat and looked around the room and chuckled.

Starsky strolled in holding a picture frame; he sat on the arm of the couch. "What's so funny?

Hutch shook his head, looked around. "The times we've had here."

Starsky acknowledged and smirked and looked around. He focused on the picture frame he had in his hands and extended it to Hutch. "This is Kenny."

Hutch took the picture; he was startled. The boy was in academy attire and the spitting image of Starsky. "Gordo, he looks just like you."

Starsky nodded, he grinned ear to ear. He was distracted by a flash from the window and stood. He was startled by another flash blinding him.

"Get down!" He jumped toward the couch when a shot was fired; the glass broke as he landed on Hutch. The picture fell from the blonds hands and landed on the carpet in front. They both rolled off the couch and onto the floor. The sound of screeching tires could be heard.

They were on their stomachs. Both mysteriously held guns. They looked to one another, the communication still intact. Hutch smirked and chuckled. "Old habits die hard."

Starsky in a cat-like form rose to his feet, his gun in his left hand and bent over and went to the window. He peeked from side to side and stood. He placed the gun in the back and tucked it in his pants. "Not exactly the welcome back I was expectin'. We're clear! I'm surprised it took them so long."

Hutch sat his back on the couch; gun in hand he held a smile on his face. "Adrenaline, can you feel it, Starsk?" He winked. "Sorry, fill me in?"

Starsky grinned momentarily; he wiped his face with his left hand. "Kenny and his partner were gunned down by Durniack's rival; ya know em' as Roper and his kid, Little Louie. Joey's nephew took over; he's sloppy and poked the wrong bear. History is repeatin' itself, first Pop now Kenny." Starsky swallowed and looked directly into Hutch's eyes. "Guessin' I'm next."

Hutch tinkered with his gun, rubbed it on his sleeve to polish. His face hardened as he raised his eyes to meet the brunet. "Not on my watch, chump!"

Hhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh

The duo entered Bay City PD side by side. This caught many of the station's occupant's attention, especially Minnie. She stood near the very same doors she entered so often to deliver files and computer reports. She too grayed; she wore her hair long and in a ponytail. The once black-rimmed glasses replaced with pink nose creepers.

Starsky glanced around. Hutch smiled ear to ear as a sense of pride overtook him. Their presence together definitely gave the precinct a new charge. Minnie stepped in front of them, her hands on her hips.

"Captain, pardon my forwardness…are my eyes deceiving me? Starsky?" She draped her arms over the brunet's shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

Starsky kissed her cheek and embraced her. She pushed back and looked him up and down. "Gorgeous, you are delicious, age has done you justice...too bad I'm married."

Hutch gently grabbed Starsky's arm and pulled him along. They stepped through the double doors, everyone in the room stood. A familiar voice called out from the back of the room. "This ladies and gentleman is David Starsky, formerly Detective Sergeant. The legendary crime-busting hotshot team of Starsky & Hutch."

The man that belonged to the voice stepped forward, Simmons along with his partner Babcock in tow. "Also known as Mutt and Jeff." Both men exhibited maturity, a little grayer, and sported a few pounds. The room erupted in laughter and applause.

Starsky glanced over at Hutch who beamed like a proud parent at a school recital. Starsky was embarrassed and overwhelmed at the same time. He grinned and flipped his middle finger at Simmons.

Hutch escorted the humiliated brunet toward his office, formerly Captain Dobey's office. Starsky looked at the area his desk once sat. A less intimate setting of cubicles had replaced them. He stopped; briefly. The memories rushed like a slide show. A younger version of Hutch flashed into his mind at the typewriter. A projector vision of himself straddled in a backward chair.

He continued to follow Hutch. Starsky for old times' sake pulled the door shut with his left foot as he so often did and slammed it shut causing Hutch to startle and cringe. The memory of Captain Harold Dobey came to him and the annoying bark. "Starsky, how many times have I told you about that?"

Starsky sat in the mini tan leather chair in front of the desk; Hutch went around to the back of the desk and pulled his leather chair. There was a knock on the door; a familiar and much older Bernie extended a folder to Hutch. "Captain I rushed the bullet analysis from last night's incident at Ridgeway."

He looked frail, but still had spunk about him. He glanced over at Starsky and smiled. "I shoulda known you'd have something to do with this, Starsky." He reached his hand out and shook the brunet's hand. "I retire in a month, was nice to have some real action around here. Welcome back!"

Starsky held his hand. "Congratulations Bernie…ah yeah."

Bernie exited; Starsky rubbed his face in disbelief. "Bernie's retiring, hard to believe."

Hutch reviewed the folder; he sat back. The expression of disbelief overtook his features. The leather chair creaked beneath him. "The bullet matches the same MO tied to New York. A gun registered to Nicholas Marvin Starsky! Deceased?" The look of agony and despair overtook his features. "Starsky, why didn't you tell me?"

Starsky pinched his lips together with his finger and thumb, he sunk into the chair. His blues eyes rose to meet Hutch. "Nicky always had a chip on his shoulder. He chose his path. He broke Ma's heart by becoming a mobster. Mystery solved, someone has his gun, and plan's on turning me into Swiss cheese."

Starsky placed his elbow on the arm of the chair leaning sideways and propped his chin. His eyes directed at Hutch. As in the past, a conversation took place without words. Hutch pointed his right hand and finger at Starsky.

"Don't even think about pulling a disappearing act or I'll turn you into Swiss cheese myself. If you think I'm sitting this one out, you are wrong, putz." His shoulder tensed, his eyes wild.

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Several blocks away in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse was an unwelcomed activity for Bay City. Rows of pressing machines filled the warehouse and stacked counterfeit money. It housed ten people actively focused on the task at hand. A tall, sinister looking man in an expensive suit chewed on a wad of gum. He peered around the room and entered a door to the side.

In the room sat an older man, he appeared to be ill. He removed the ball cap from his head that exposed a partially bald head. He watched the fancy suited man as he sat in front of him.

"What do you have for me, Louie?" The voice was weak, raspy but still held conviction. Jack Roper was not a force to be reckoned with; he had a nasty reputation. Across from him was his son Little Louie, who was not so little. The younger man held an edge of cockiness and disrespect in his demeanor.

"Starsky is still alive." Unlike his father, his voice didn't hold much weight. He played with his multiple rings on his left hand.

The old man's hand slammed the desk before him startling his son. He raised it and pointed. "If he connects with Hutchinson we are done. I'm not dead yet, son; you still follow my orders." He snapped his fingers, the side door to his office opened, and a large man dressed in a long trench coat stepped in. "This is Mr. O'Neil. Give him all the information you have on Starsky. I want him dead. I have 3 million at stake. I trust that journal was destroyed?"

The younger man smirked and nodded. "I've got ya covered pop; we did his kid in, don't worry." He snickered and turned away pulling a leather journal from inside his coat pocket.

Sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssssssss

Starsky drove the candy apple red Mustang; Hutch sat shotgun. Starsky clutched and shifted the loud roaring car into fourth gear. Hutch looked around the inside touching the black leather seats. "Your taste in cars hasn't improved, Starsk."

Starsky focused ahead. "1995 Cobra, 5.8 Windsor V8, five speed." He smiled proudly. "I bought it for Kenny for graduation, had her decked out. He preferred the boat on wheels, a mustard brown Galaxie." He grimaced. "He found a photograph stored in the attic and fell in love with your heap."

Hutch laughed uncontrollably, he reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "She was a classic. I miss that car."

Starsky glared in the side mirror, then the rearview mirror. His face took on a more serious tone. His shoulders pulled back. "We got a shark on our tail."

Hutch checked his side view mirror. He braced himself for a wild ride. He noticed a police radio just below the dash. Starsky reached over and turned it on and adjusted the dial. Hutch grabbed the microphone; he hesitatingly glanced over at the anxious driver. A spark glimmered from his blue eyes.

"This is Zebra 3, over." He smiled widely, his shoulders relaxed.

Starsky's face brightened and a mischievous smile formed. "Now that's classy…Zebra 3. Ya always hated it."

"This is Bay City PD, over. Please use appropriate department protocol and state your business." The response was professional and no-nonsense.

"This is Captain Hutchinson, Adam 4. I am a passenger in a red 1995 Mustang Cobra traveling south on Hilton. 537 ONN is registered with Bay City PD as Zebra 3 along with its occupant, over." He glanced over to Starsky. "Its music to my lips, Gordo."

"Roger, Zebra 3…Welcome back, Starsky!"

Starsky raised one eyebrow. "Why is everybody assumin' I am back?"

Hutch glanced over, he smirked. "Broaden your horizons, he who babbled mindless trivia...even old dogs always find their way home, partner!

Starsky raised the left corner of his mouth, he frowned. "Mindless? Who ya callin' old, partner?"

Hutch clicked the microphone. "We are heading south on Hilton; we have a tail, black Buick sedan, unknown license plate; over." Hutch glanced once again in the mirror.

"Roger, Zebra 3, units in the vicinity of Hilton, please be advised…" Hutch reached and muted the radio. He glanced over to Starsky who was checking the mirror like a hawk.

"Show me what the cherry tomato's got?"

Starsky formed a wide grin and took the corner as he downshifted. The tires screeched, and the engine roared. He recovered from the turn, floored the gas pedal, and shifted into the straightaway. The smaller car growled and smoked its tires in acceleration. The car behind them followed and increased their speed. Hutch braced himself as Starsky took another turn to the left, the car screeched and growled as he shifted down and accelerated once again.

Hutch grabbed the microphone. "This is Zebra 3 we are being pursued; we are on Jax Lane heading west."

The black car continued its pursuit. Starsky handled the feisty mustang with precision as he always had in the past with the Torino. He glanced momentarily at Hutch. "Whatta ya say we introduce ourselves to our guest, Stanley?"

Hutch pulled his magnum from its holster beneath his jacket and winked. "Why Ollie that's a splendid idea."

Starsky maneuvered the car into a large parking lot and pulled a one-eighty in front of the black sedan causing the vehicle to halt abruptly. Both men exited the vehicle with guns drawn. Sirens could be heard in the far distance.

Two men exited the black sedan with their hands up. The back door opened, a well dressed Don Johnson look-alike character exited. He ran his hand through his slick blond hair and smiled. "Gentlemen, there is no need for the guns. My name is Tony Durniack, Joey's nephew."

Starsky stood from the crouched position he was in and took a deep breath. Hutch walked toward the passenger and patted him down and pulled him to the front of the car. Starsky did the same with the driver. Tony placed his hand's palms outward to his side. Starsky cautiously verified he was clean.

"What do ya want, Tony?" Starsky holstered his gun, his voice thick with anxiety.

Tony bowed his head; he looked over at Hutch and back to Starsky. "I'm sorry about your kid; they got to him before I could warn ya."

Starsky's face shadowed with anger, his eyes wild. "Save it, what do ya want?"

Tony glanced over to Hutch and back. "Can we talk in private?"

Starsky raised his left hand and pointed. "Whatever ya got to say…ya can say it in front of him."

Tony stayed true to the Don Johnson cool vibe, nodded. "Uncle Joey…may he rest in peace, left clear instructions we were to protect ya. Well, word is there's a hit on ya and old man Roper has junior taking out the orders. You're worth a hefty price dead; Joey Jr. made it clear I warn ya. Your kid was asking too many questions. Nicky, well ya know…he was careless."

A black and white police car pulled into the parking lot. Hutch signaled them to stay back. Starsky glanced over to Hutch. He turned his fiery eyes back to Tony.

"Consider the message delivered Tony; I'll take it from here." The words delivered with an edge to his voice.

Tony adjusted his collar. "I'm not done. Ya see Uncle Joey kept a secret. He was a friend of your Pop; ya know the story, Davey." He glanced over to Hutch, and back to Starsky. "Your son and his partner stumbled onto some information that could destroy Roper and his kid."

Starsky's shoulder shifted, his stance stiffened. "Spill it, Tony."

The suited man tensed, his eyes wandered between the partners. "Jack was there when your Pop took the bullet, his old man Tommy ordered the hit. Uncle Joey tried to stop Tommy. Nicky found a journal that was left by Arnie Monterose, the hit man. Your kid found it in that warehouse he and his partner searched. It was addressed to you. I've already said too much.

Starsky closed his eyes. Briefly, he took a deep breath. "Where's the journal?"

Tony bowed his head and glanced up. "Jack Roper had it. I'm assuming he destroyed it!" He bowed his head once again.

The brunet looked over at Hutch who wore a stunned expression then back to Tony. "Thanks get out of here." He pointed at the car and the two men. "You turkeys take Mr. Durniack here to the airport."

Starsky remained by the sedan. He looked at Hutch who had made his way over to his officers. The automobile and its occupants were in motion. Starsky's cell phone rang in his pocket; he quickly reached in and opened the flip phone. He didn't recognize the number. "Hello."

The voice was disguised. "There's a bomb in the car. You have thirty seconds." The caller disconnected.

Hutch notice the brunet's stiff shoulders and reaction. The police car was a reasonable distance away. "Hutch would be safe if he stayed there," Starsky thought. Starsky put his hand up to signal Hutch to remain where he was. He locked his gaze on the red car. Hutch knew that look; something was very wrong; chills combined with terror climbed his spine. He stood by the black and white car and watched.

Starsky turned and shouted as he began to run. "GET DOWN!"

The car exploded and the officer's dove to the ground. Hutch catapulted and dove to the ground and rolled.

"STARSKY!"

He rolled several times and stopped; he quickly got to his feet to see the fiery remains of Starsky's beloved Mustang. He didn't see Starsky; the smoke was thick and debris scattered. Hutch ran in the direction his friend was last seen and saw him, laying on his side almost identical to the Bay City parking lot incident. "Call the fire department and an ambulance!"

Hutch rushed to his side, he stiffly knelt down and assessed the situation and injuries. Starsky was still breathing but out cold. Hutch touched his arms and legs; there were no breaks. He sat on the ground and pulled his friend onto his lap and noticed a small cut on his forehead that was bleeding. Hutch attempted to catch his breath; he needed to remain calm. "Starsk, hey…Starsky. Wake up? This is no time for a nap."

Hutch cupped his hand on the side of the unconscious man's face. He rubbed his thumb on the paled, no longer tanned skin. Starsky slowly awoke, his hand grabbed Hutch's wrist. "What's all the fuss about, schweetheart? I ever tell ya how beautiful your eyes get when you're worried, huh?"

Hutch took a deep breath; he removed his hand. "You Putz, I thought you'd been blown to smithereens like your car." He shook his head and began to laugh.

Starsky winced and giggled, reality set in, and panic took over. "Aww geez! My car!"

Hutch glanced over to the fiery, smoke-ridden remains of the Mustang. He continued to laugh.

"Starsky…you have no idea how much I've missed this and you." The blond gasped for air. "I'm feeling more alive than I've felt in years. Laura is going to kill me!"

The two officers watched in puzzlement. The display of odd behavior that came from their Captain and his former partner left them speechless. Their laughter could be heard over the popping and crackling of the fire.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Starsky emerged from the bathroom at his apartment wearing a white robe and PJ bottoms. The front door opened with Hutch carrying several plastic grocery bags in one hand, the cell phone in the other over his ear. He dropped the bags on the table.

"Laura visit with Terry, this is for the best. Stay at the safe house until you hear from me, honey, hon, Laura!" He pulled the cell phone away from his ear, extended it to Starsky who shook his head no.

"Laura, I love you. I'm fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow." He pulled the phone away, closed it. He took a deep breath. "My wife the trial attorney."

Starsky removed the items from the grocery bags. He seemed a million miles away in thought. Hutch removed his jacket and noticed a dark navy blue bathrobe folded neatly on the couch with a change of clothes. Starsky entered the living room with two beers in hand. He extended one to his partner. On the table was a dark T-shirt. Starsky placed his beer on the table and removed his robe which exposed a still buff form that exhibited faded scars.

Hutch took a sip and froze. His eyes glued to the form before him. Starsky paused and noticed this and quickly slid his shirt on and retrieved his beer. The cold chills that encompassed them made the room seem eerie and small with a rush of unwelcomed memories.

Starsky walked to the peacock chair and sat; he took a deep breath. He knew Hutch needed a distraction. "Well, the mystery behind Pop's murder's been solved. I thought I'd be more relieved knowin." He sighed and scratched his head with his left hand. "I worked for a security firm in Ontario, Canada for six months, and then I returned to New York. Lex was a rising model and designer; I worked security detail for her manager. We were like oil and water, but she couldn't resist my charming ways." He snickered. "We married, she got pregnant."

Starsky took a long sip of his beer; Hutch kicked his boots off and sat on the couch. Silence hung once again. "Kenny was two when she resumed her career. I played Captain Marvel on a hold up at a shopping mall; it all came back to me. I was offered a position at Metro, Pop's precinct. I took the lieutenants exam and made Captain ten years ago."

Starsky sat back, looked at the ceiling and smirked. "Lex hated the job, the hours. She couldn't compete with my first love and your ghost." He glanced briefly at the form sitting on the couch.

"Nicky sucked me back in; she hated him." He cleared his throat. "Lex and I moved in and raised Kenny at the house, Ma needed help then she went to a nursing home. She passed away two years ago. We grew apart, Lex's career took off, and I buried myself in the department."

Starsky took another sip. "Kenny was hooked the minute he saw the photo of you and me. Ma kept the news clippings in the attic. He was a good kid, smart. He chose the academy; Lex served me divorce papers, I don't blame her...we had to live watchin' our backs." He bowed his head; the pain was devastating. "Nicky bit more than he could chew and tried to sleaze Roper out of his territory."

Hutch remained silent; he glanced over at his partner. The same expression of sadness, loss and once again fear on the brunet's face, wounded eyes that took a toll on a man's partner.

"I never intended comin' here and destroyin' your life. Hell, that's why I left." Starsky sat up and leaned forward, rubbed the side of his face with his hands. "I'm flyin' back out to New York in the mornin', I don't much care what happens to me, but I do care about you and your family."

Hutch placed his beer bottle onto the coffee table; he took a long deep breath and hissed. "Oh, no you're not! You don't get to make a choice this time, Starsk."

Hutch lurched from his seated position and used his height to intimidate his partner. "I don't want to spend the next twenty-whatever years wondering 'what if' and feeling like I did the last twenty-two. Do I make myself clear?" His voice elevated into shouting.

Starsky bowed his head, shook it. He raised his eyes to meet his agitated friend's blue icy orbs. "For a minute there I thought Dobey was here. Give a man a title, and he goes bananas on ya. I hear ya loud and clear, but I don't have to like it, partner."

Hutch's towered demeanor retracted, but his eyes still held fire. A knock at the door caught both of their attention. Hutch pulled his magnum, Starsky went for the berretta hanging near the closet. Hutch went to the left of the door, Starsky to the right. "Who is it?"

"Well I can tell you who it's isn't and that's the pope, Jive Chimp, now let me in." Huggy bear called out sarcastically.

The boys both relaxed, Starsky opened the door. Huggy strolled in wearing jeans, polo shirt and long brown sweater. He hesitated when he saw Hutch, then Starsky to the opposite side. "The rumor is true Abbot and Costello are back in their groove."

Hutch removed his gun holster and walked over to the couch. Starsky shook Huggy's hand. "Good to see ya, Hug."

Huggy glanced over to Hutch, then back. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your kid. I left the informant life years ago. I've been legit for over 20 years, but if by chance someone should happen to partake in a meal and conversation and slip me some gossip…" Two sets of inquisitive eyes met his. "Roper's hired a cat by the name of Mr. O'Neil to waste a cop. They are holed up in a vacant building somewhere on Reynolds."

Huggy crossed his arms over his chest. "Sweet Alice and her significant other, Billy Ray, overheard the conversation between Moe Moe and Little Louie." He glanced over to Hutch. "She's officially off the streets, Blondie, but her old man like the ponies, ya dig?"

Starsky's shoulders tensed, the anger crept to his jaw-line and eyes. "This information could be a setup." Starsky put his hands to his head; anger fueled him. "Hug, ya shouldn't have come here! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it."

Hutch formed a puzzled look on his face. "Hug, how did you get past surveillance?"

Starsky went to the window; Hutch flipped the light switch and pulled Huggy near the bathroom door. All three men startled when a cell phone rang. Hutch went to his jacket and retrieved it. Starsky resumed his watch at the window; he hid behind the piece of cardboard that covered the bullet hole.

Hutch opened his flip phone. "Hutchinson!" He rubbed the side of his face and sighed. "Get Simmons and Babcock out there immediately, how long ago was the alarm set off? He ran his hand through his hair. "What happened to the car that I ordered posted at Ridgeway?" Shock shadowed his features. "I never requested to have them removed." He glanced at the window; his partner glared at him. "I'll be in touch."

Starsky made his way through the street-lit living room and enclosed his presence onto the blond. "Hutch?"

The blond refused to make eye contact with his partner. "Starsk, they left their calling card at my house. They planted a pipe bomb in the mailbox and a note on my door, you or my family."

Hutch began to dial his phone, he waited. "Laura? Is Terry with you?" The relief emanated in his voice. "No…no, everything is okay. Stay there. Don't let anyone in. You know where the gun is hidden." He rubbed his forehead.

Starsky stormed past Huggy into the bedroom. Hutch caught a glimpse. "Listen, babe; I will call you in the morning, don't use this cell phone, and use the backup. I love you."

Blue flashing lights appeared outside. Huggy flipped the lights back on. Starsky was dressed in his blue jeans, gun holster, and leather jacket. His features held the underline of anger and tension. "I need to put an end to this now."

He darted past Huggy who flailed his arms up from his side in frustration. "Curly that's just plain suicide!"

Hutch cut the raging brunet off and stood in front of the door. "Hey, hold it right there!" He raised both hands and placed them on Starsky's chest, one over his heart.

Starsky's adrenaline peaked, his breathing labored. "Ya liable to think differently about this if your family is harmed. " His eyes were filled with fear.

Hutch pressed his hand firmly over Starsky's heart; he stared intensely. "My partner once told me, I have a vested interest in this."

Starsky calmed, he bowed and looked at Hutch's hand over his heart, and he glanced back up to meet a steely-eyed glare of blue ice. The touch was the needed connection, the very foundation that represented them in the past, me and thee. Something they both missed and desperately needed was each other.

"This partner of mine also said…hey, we're buddies, right? Trust me! We've got something they don't have, and that's each other! From the lips of Captain Harold Dobey, no private parties." Hutch smiled, kept his gaze that spoke a thousand of words.

Starsky closed his eyes, opened them and grinned. "Well, when ya put it that way, Blondie."

Huggy walked up behind them and placed himself between them; put his arms around their shoulders. He looked at the ceiling. "The planets have aligned, thank you, Jesus."

Ssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssssss

Hutch exited the bathroom; he grabbed his gun holster from the table. He looked around the apartment. "Starsk?"

He didn't receive a response he went to the window and looked; a police car sat across the street. The two officers inside seemed to be focused on something below. Hutch holstered his gun and grabbed his jacket and exited cautiously; he locked the door. He walked down the stairway when he heard the slamming of what sounded like a hood. A smile formed when he saw his partner wiping his hands on a rag, he smiled. "I had her serviced six months ago. I'd take her out once in a while up along the coast."

Starsky turned, he too wore a smile. "What happened to the 351 Cleveland? Replaced with a 390 and stainless steel dual exhaust?" He shook his head. "The suspension and rears were altered too?"

Hutch leaned against the garage door frame. "Merle felt it was time you handle a car that fit your personality and lead foot. That and the bullets well, that was then." He sighed. "Merle passed away eight years ago, his son Merle Junior has taken over."

Starsky bowed his head. "Hutch I…thanks, pal." Appreciation and overwhelming emotions restricted his throat. He pulled the keys from his jacket pocket and smirked. "Whatta ya say we take her for a drive?"

Hutch nodded and followed. Starsky opened the door and slid into the driver's seat with a trace of cockiness from the past. Hutch entered the passenger side in almost the same charge and spirited actions of his partner.

Starsky sat with his hands grasped onto the wheel and smiled the million dollar smile. Hutch chuckled and placed his left hand on his shoulder. "Start her up…runs better that way."

Starsky glanced with a note of arrogance. He put the key in the ignition and turned it and sparked the Torino to life, decibels higher in sound. He stepped on the gas pedal briefly as she roared to life sending the vibrations through his body. The smile that formed on his juvenile partner's face told the blond he had made the right choices.

Starsky put it into gear and slowly let her roll to clear the garage door and stopped; Hutch exited and closed the garage door. He entered the car, as he reached to close the door Starsky revved the engine to life, accelerated and spun the tires. Hutch was thrown back into the seat the car door slammed, and all that was left was a cloud of smoke.

Starsky pushed the car's power to red line, he arrived at the end of the cul de sac and spun her into a three-sixty, and it handled like a brand new car. Starsky beamed for the moment and seemed to have forgotten everything. Hutch placed his hand over his mouth and wiped. "What have I done?"

Starsky had a wild look in his eyes, hands on the wheel. "Merle is a legend; he's outdone himself. Hutch she…she's beautiful!" The brunet was overwhelmed. "Kenny would have dumped your heap for this baby."

Hutch sat with his elbow against the window frame and head propped. "You are ridiculous. You know that?"

Starsky revved the engine and glowed, his teeth sparkled from the smile. "Whatta you know?"

Hutch briefly glanced and saw the expression on Starsky's face. "Starsky, no...Starsk, oh come on, Gordo?"

The engine roared to life and tires spun; Hutch grabbed the door and dash. The car rocketed past the two officers who laughed.

Ssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssssssssssss

At the warehouse across the city, Little Louie entered a back room that was heavily guarded. He adjusted his 1975 disco-era leftover suit, slicked his greasy hair back and grinned. "Welcome, I trust your travels here weren't too uncomfortable." He smiled as the words slithered from his mouth.

Three figures sat before him; the burlap sacks were removed from their heads. Huggy sat with his eyes wide and mouth taped. The other two were Hutch's wife Laura and daughter Terry, which were also bound and gagged. The tape was roughly removed from each of their mouths.

Little Louie glared at Terry. "Say, aren't you just a pretty little thing." He reached down and touched his trousers in the crotch area.

Huggy saw the inappropriate gesture. "Leave the girl alone."

Terry glared at Huggy; she held a calm, relaxed demeanor like her father. "Don't worry, Uncle Huggy; I can handle myself. She glared at the sleazy man with cold blue orbs.

Laura glanced over at her daughter. "Terry, just ignore him." Her voice held embarrassment and pride. After all, she was her father's daughter. "What do you want from us?" Her eyes darted at Little Louie.

The guards left the room; Louie inched closer and pointed at each of them. "Oh, I want David Starsky and for that to happen well I have to bait Hutchinson." He enclosed his presence on Terry, stood in front of her and licked his lips. "I may have to have a little fun with you."

Terry smiled at him, a twinkle in her eyes was a telltale warning as she loosened her foot from the ropes and kicked upward lodging her foot in Little Louie's groin. The creepy man bent forward and fell to his knees and gasped.

"Not before I have a little fun with you, dirtbag. You have messed with the wrong people, and you're gonna pay for it." Her words spoken through gritted teeth of revenge.

The guards rushed in and assisted Little Louie out of the room then slammed and locked the door. Huggy shook his head. "Little Miss, I wouldn't try that again, those cats are mean, and there's no telling what they'll do to any of us." He responded as he assessed the surroundings.

Laura struggled with the ropes on her wrists; she took a deep breath. "Huggy is right, honey; your father and his partner have made many enemies over the years. We need to keep our cool and calm."

Terry kicked the ropes off her feet; she held a mischievous grin. "Disgusting pig, just let him try that again. Remind me to thank Dad for making me take those self-defense classes."

Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssss

Starsky pulled the Torino into the parking space in front of his apartment. Both men exited and acknowledged the officers parked down the street. Starsky reached the door with key in hand and hesitated. The door wasn't closed. Hutch pulled his gun as Starsky did the same.

"I closed and locked that door when I left this morning." The blond bit his lip.

Starsky pushed the door with the butt of his gun. The door creaked as it swung open. He put the gun in front with both hands grasping and eased himself in the living room. Hutch followed cautiously. They scanned the apartment checking each room. Starsky called out. "Clear."

Hutch noticed an envelope on the coffee table. "Starsk, someone left an envelope." He raised his eyes to meet his partner's.

Hutch took the envelope which was addressed to him and not his partner. He carefully opened it and pulled a photo of his wife, daughter and Huggy gagged and bound. His face paled, his hands trembled. He turned it over to find a message. "Bring Starsky to the warehouse on 420 Reynolds, or they all die." The blond read it out loud as his voice quivered.

Starsky made his way over as he holstered his gun; he took the picture from his stunned partner's hands. He looked at it; he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. His body trembled, his eyes fierce with rage. He reached with his left hand and grasped Hutch's shoulder. "Let's give them what they want."

Hutch's eyes rose to meet his partner's determined and out-for-blood gaze. He shook his head in denial. "No! I won't let you do this, Starsky."

Starsky pulled a clip from his coat pocket and unholstered his gun and reloaded. His shoulders were rigid, his jaw tight and his eyes no longer displayed indigo blue but pools of darkness. "Let's go get your family and Huggy. Hey, wasn't it you that once told me we got something they don't, each other!"

The blond formed a smile and nodded. The both of them headed for the door. Hutch reached for his cell phone and dialed as they ran down the steps.

Hhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Starsky drove the Torino through the streets just as he had done so many years ago. Hutch felt guilty for feeling the adrenaline and rush of yesteryears. The vehicle came to an abrupt halt near the warehouse district. Starsky parked the car a block back from the warehouse. He put the car into park; his hands wrapped the steering wheel tightly forming white knuckles.

"I'm sorry; I won't let anything happen to Huggy, you or your family. I won't!" The words held more than a promise from the brunet's lips.

Hutch turned and looked at his partner; he knew what Starsky meant. He also knew his crazy partner would do exactly what he said, which is save his family at his own cost. This scared him and sent a chill down his spine. "You are part of my family, Gordo."

Starsky bowed his head; he couldn't look at his partner. All he wanted is for Hutch and his family and Huggy to be safe, and he didn't care at what cost.

They both emerged from the car with guns in hands. The blond glanced at his partner. "Back up will be here in ten minutes."

Starsky headed for the side of the building and Hutch went to the opposite side. They both scanned the area for access. Hutch found a broken window and reached inside to pull the hinge and entered. He carefully and quietly walked with his gun before him. He tried to turn each doorknob as he walked. The building was too quiet.

As the blond walked down the long hallway, he heard voices coming from a room further down. He held his position and slid into an open room. One of the guards from earlier left the room and locked the door. Hutch quickly glanced and watched the man walk away. He swiftly and quietly made his way to the door and looked in through the glass and saw what he was there for, Huggy and his family. He pulled a jack-knife from his pocket and picked at the lock then entered. He quietly closed the door. He motioned for no one to talk by pressing his finger against his lips. He took the knife and cut the ropes one by one and set his family and Huggy free. "You guys okay?"

Laura wrapped her arms around her husband as tears fell. Terry also hugged her father and mother. Huggy went to the door and kept a lookout. "It won't be long before they return, my man. Where's Curly?"

Hutch pulled a small pistol from his coat pocket and handed it to his daughter. "Terry, remember just like I taught you?"

The petite blond held the gun with a crooked smile. "I remember daddy." She handled the weapon like a pro.

Hutch kissed his wife and made his way over to Huggy. "Starsky's here; he should be making his entrance anytime. Hug, you okay?"

The sound of gunfire erupted. Hutch made his way past Huggy and opened the door. They all followed. The sound of loud voices echoing could be heard. Hutch made his way toward the voices when a guard stepped out near him and held a gun to him. Huggy backed up and placed himself between the gunman and the women.

"Don't move, cop!" The guard held his gun in front, his voice crisp.

Terry stepped away from Huggy and pointed her pistol. "Drop it, or you'll bleed like a stuffed pig." The man turned his weapon toward her as she fired. The guard fell to the floor. Laura covered her mouth. Huggy reached and removed the gun from the dead man's hand and tossed it down the hall.

Terry trembled and winked at her father. "So that's what it feels like, nobody messes with my family."

Hutch shook his head; he was amazed and terrified all at once. "You sound like my, partner."

The blond motioned for everyone to follow a safe distance. They walked to an opening where Starsky stood with his gun in his left hand pointed at Jack Roper who stood before him. There were two guards behind him, and Little Louie with gun drawn.

Without warning, another Mr. O'Neil came up behind and grabbed the gun from Terry's hand and pulled her to his chest. Huggy caught Laura and pushed her through a side door out of the building. Hutch turned and saw his daughter in the grasp of a Mr. O'Neil. The man motioned for him to drop his gun and move toward the opening in the warehouse. Terry struggled with the large man, but he was too strong.

"Terry, don't." Hutch placed his gun on the floor and put his hands up to the side and walked.

"Quit shoving me, you overgrown baboon." The feisty little blond elbowed Mr. O'Neil.

Starsky took note that his partner was unarmed. Hutch locked his eyes onto his partner momentarily, the unspoken message delivered. He scanned each person carefully and saw Terry was being held with a gun pointed at her back.

"Well, what do we have here? It looks like your partner and his daughter are in a little trouble, Starsky. It wasn't enough that nosey kid of yours got himself killed." The old man snickered and cleared his throat from laughter.

Starsky observed each person and glanced at his partner. "Way I see it, Roper, it's you or them. Let my partner and his daughter go, and you get me. That's what you've wanted all along. I know you, and your old man wasted my Pop, and I know about the journal that Arnie left behind. Ya took all that was left; I don't give damn what happens to me."

The old man's smirk disappeared. He motioned the large man to let the girl go with her father. Hutch put his arm around his daughter and walked her toward his partner. Starsky watched everyone's movement. "Hutch, go on! Get out of here with your daughter."

Hutch placed his daughter behind him; he reached into the back of his pants and pulled another gun. "Not without you, mush brain."

Terry stepped back and shook her head and whispered. "A little harsh aren't you, Daddy?"

Mr. O'Neil aimed and fired a shot and hit Hutch in the left arm. Terry grabbed her father and held him as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. Starsky fired and shot at Mr. O'Neil who crumpled to the floor, then fired two more shots hitting Little Louie and the man next to him, both falling to the ground instantly. Hutch dropped his gun; Terry dove for it and raised it to shoot the other guard. Starsky placed himself in front of Terry. Roper pulled his pistol and fired a shot hitting the brunet in the chest. Starsky fired two more shots hitting Roper and the guard as his knees began to buckle.

"S-t–a-r-s-k-y!" Hutch watched in horror.

Terry helped her father to his feet. The only sound that could be heard was that of sirens and back up. Starsky dropped his gun and collapsed onto the floor. Hutch immediately went to his side. Terry held her father's gun and kept watch.

"Daddy, he took the bullet for me!" Her voice broke as tears formed.

Hutch rolled his partner onto his back. His face was blanched, his eyes closed. Hutch reached with the injured arm. He found the bullet hole embedded in the brunet's chest. The pool of blood was spreading wider.

"Starsk? Oh god! Come on, buddy. Don't you leave me, don't you leave me!" The blond's voice cracked with fear and emotion. He took the small jacket that Terry had removed. She handed it to him and applied it to the chest wound. Terry knelt on the opposite side and took over applying the pressure. "I'll add pressure to the wound."

Hutch reached with his right hand and brushed lightly with his fingers against the soft dark curls. His eyes welled up with tears. Terry watched the magic unfold between her father and a man she only knew from stories, his partner. She saw for the first time the bond and connection her father had with this mysterious man from her father's past.

"He saved my life!" Her eyes glued to the motionless hero before her.

Hhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhh

Several hours later Hutch sat in a waiting room; his arm was bandaged. Laura sat beside him with her arm around his arm locked; she caressed his forearm. Huggy walked in with three coffees and extended one to Laura and Hutch. Terry took her father's coffee as he sat there almost catatonic.

Laura looked at Huggy then back at her husband. "Thank you, Huggy." Hutch stood and looked down at his hands and walked out toward the hallway and down to the men's room. Laura was startled by his abrupt silent departure. "Ken?"

Huggy sat opposite of the stunned woman. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I've been here many times. It didn't matter Blondie or Curly when one was hurt the other inconsolable." The thin black man looked into his coffee cup, he sighed. "Dark and Light, opposites paired to complete and make it whole and unbreakable." He raised his eyes to meet Laura's sad, worried eyes. She nodded and reached out and took Huggy's hand in comfort.

"Ken once read a poem to me by Susana Zatarian. A knowing there without knowing. I feel like I was always waiting for you. Like I always knew you. To have denied this would have been denying a part of my very own heart." The words left her lips softly. "There's more, always knew it was for the ghost named David Starsky."

Terry placed the coffee on the magazine table and sat next to her mother. Laura wrapped her arm around her. Terry wiped away a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "I've never seen Daddy like this, never. I'm worried Mom." She brushed away from her face a wisp of blonde hair. "Daddy's partner didn't think twice; he took the bullet meant for me."

A nurse appeared in the doorway of the waiting room. "Excuse me; Mr. Hutchinson has been escorted to Mr. Starsky's room. He asked me to let you know. Dr. Lingardi was able to remove the bullet. He's lost a lot of blood. He's in ICU room 426, no more than two visitors at a time.

Laura wiped away the tears that poured from her eyes. "Thank you." She reached and grasped Huggy's hand and sighed. "We need to be strong and supportive. David Starsky, you had better pull through for my husband's sake. I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my baby."

Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssssss

The monitors beeped in the sterile and white room. The monitors surrounded the bed, and the IV tubing lead to a very still form on the bed. The brunet lay almost lifeless with a nasal cannula attached to his nose. His chest wrapped precisely as it was those many years ago. Hutch sat next to the bed, and his jacket draped over the back of the chair along with the gun and holster.

The blond glared at the clock on the wall; it was exactly twenty-four hours since the shooting. He rubbed his injured arm and then cupped his mouth with his hand. Drawing in a long deep breath, he slid his hand down and grasped the still pale hand of his partner. Hutch raised the hand and cupped it between his and rubbed his thumb over the warm skin.

"You've done it now, buddy. It's been twenty-four hours, how much sleep does a man need? Hey, it's time to wake up." He whispered soothingly.

"I missed you, Starsk. I know I had Laura and Terry and I thank god every day for them. But, they weren't you, the first person who accepted me as I am, flaws and all. You always had a way of working around them, even when I was a miserable jerk. You were and still are my best friend." His grip tightened around the motionless hand as the sad blue eyes searched for any sign of consciousness.

The door opened, and Laura slipped in quietly and made her way over to her husband. She was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and denim jacket. She gently touched her husband's hair and caressed it as she watched him hold his partner's hand. "I slept a few hours, and yes I had breakfast."

Laura smiled and leaned down and kissed the blond's face. "Why don't you come home and shower and change? We can come right back."

Hutch continued to caress the hand in his grasp. He leaned his head onto his wife's frame. "I can't Laura; the last time I left he died." The words were spoken softly and held a tone of genuine distress.

Laura crouched next to him and reached her hand and placed it over her husband's and grasped along with his onto the pale, limp hand. "He's not alone Ken; we are his family. I'll support you all the way, honey. David Starsky, you don't know me, but we need you to fight your way back." She leaned her head on her husband's shoulder.

Hhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh

The days had passed, visits from Minnie and Huggy and even Sweet Alice, but the brunet remained unresponsive. It had been four days and Hutch stayed near his friend. Hutch stared out the window and glanced at the still figure in the bed. "Don't know what I did to deserve you, Starsk."

A nurse entered the room with a large white hospital bag and placed it on the nightstand near the bed. She checked the monitors and smiled at Hutch. "We found his belongings that were left in the ER. Can I get you anything, Mr. Hutchinson?"

Hutch smiled and shook his head no. She left the room quietly. The bag fell onto the floor and startled the blond. He immediately went to retrieve it. Starsky's black leather jacket had dislodged from the opening. Trembling fingers grasped the bag and placed it on the nightstand as the other hand held the black jacket. The leather crackled in his grip as he pulled the coat to his chest. Something caught Hutch's eyes as it flowed to the floor. He bent over and picked it up and slowly turned it over. The edges were weathered and worn like the one he so often held. He remembered the picture of their first year as partners. This picture was taken after a celebration of their biggest bust. A smile came across the tired blond's face as he went back in time to the day in the hospital when he snuck in the veal and wine glasses. Rubbing his thumb on the picture, he could almost feel the effects of the drunken buzz from that night.

"You fought then, fight now!" A tear escaped water filled eyes and landed on the picture near the corner. "You fight, you hear me…you fight! You have something to live for and don't you forget it." He growled with a quivering chin as he placed the picture on his chest along with the jacket and embraced it. An expression of determination veiled his features as he stood by the bed.

Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssssss

Starsky stood in a field; he was dressed in his faded blue jeans and brown leather jacket from the past. He looked to the blue sky and took in a deep breath. He thought he heard Hutch's voice and called out. "Hutch, is that you? Where are ya? His voice weakened and cut out. He reached up and placed his hand on his chest.

"You fought then, fight now!" The voice echoed softly.

"Fight? Where the hell am I? Hutch?" He coughed and rubbed his chest again.

His partner's words echoed around him. "You fight, you hear me…you fight! You have something to live for and don't you forget it."

The brunet glanced around and was startled by another voice that came from behind him. "He's right, Dad."

Starsky spun around and almost lost his balance. The ache in his chest wouldn't let go. "Kenny, but you're…?" Starsky reached and grabbed his son in an embrace. Kenny wore a white t-shirt and white trousers. He glowed as he returned the embrace. Stepping back, Starsky reached for his chest again in pain.

"Uncle Ken needs you Dad; you need to go back. It's not your time. You need him too. I love you, Dad." The young man ran his hands through his dark curls and smiled.

Starsky rubbed his chest. "I can't Kenny. Hutch has his family; he doesn't need me." The words came out in a gasp.

Music echoed from a distance and caught him off guard. Kenny smiled and closed his eyes as he listened. The wind increased as Starsky sensed another presence and turned.

"Davey, do as your son says. No more running, my son. Go home; you need to be Hutch. I love you." The words were whispered from his mother's lips. She was a much younger version dressed in a white flowing gown. Starsky grasped his chest again; he reached for his mother but never touched her.

"Ma, Kenny…where am, I? I don't want to leave ya." Blue orbs of distress and fear squinted in the bright sunlight.

The visions of his mother and son were bright and blinding. Starsky placed both hands on his chest when another voice called out to him.

"Dave, go to Hutch. Listen and follow the music. We love you." The angelic voice whispered in his ear; she wrapped her arms around him.

The brunet closed his eyes and took in a deep breath and felt the warmth of her embrace. He opened his eyes to meet the eyes of his former fiancé, Terry Roberts. She too was dressed in a white gown. Her eyes sparkled as she reached with both hands and cupped his face and kissed him passionately. Starsky felt her pulling away. He reached for her, but his chest hurt. He placed his hands on his chest and pulled them apart; they were covered in blood.

"Terry, Ma…Kenny? I don't want to go back, please. I love ya." His voice cried out weakly as tears formed.

A voice came from behind. "Hey, ya did a good job being the man of the house, son. Don't disrespect your, Ma."

Starsky spun around; his chest throbbed with pain, his mouth open. He couldn't move as his eyes widened. "Pop?"

The man was almost a mirror image of Starsky except he wore a white t-shirt. He reached and touched his son on the cheek with his left hand. "Not your time, Davey. Your partner needs ya. Ya made me proud, son." His eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he gave his son the famous Starsky smile.

The brunet felt the pain increase; he grasped his chest as darkness enclosed upon him, and the music increased in volume.

Ssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssssss

The monitors beeped steadily, and the lights were dim. It was late evening when Hutch snuck into the room with a boom box in hand. Laura and Terry sat near the window and watched the blond man enter as though he were late for a recital. He placed the boom box on the nightstand and propped the two photos against it.

Laura leaned forward and watched. "Ken?" She whispered and waited patiently.

Hutch pressed the play button and glanced over at the still form in the hospital bed. "This is a long shot; I'm at a loss and will do or try anything."

Terry took her mother's hand and held it. The music began softly; the song was by the group Bread. The blond approached the bedside and softly began to sing.

 _"_ _If a picture paints a thousand words, Then why can't I paint you? The words will never show, The you I've come to know."_

 _If a face could launch a thousand ships, Then where am I to go? There's no one home but you,  
You're all that's left me too, and when my love for life is running dry. You come and pour yourself on me." _The voice smooth as caramel, soft and comforting.

Terry's expression laced with shock as tears formed. "Mom, I never knew Daddy could sing."

Laura smiled as she wiped the corner of her eyes and closed her eyes. Laura opened her eyes and smiled at her daughter. "I haven't heard him sing in a very long time, baby. Your father told me how he would comfort Uncle Dave when he was upset or hurt."

Hutch continued to hum along with the recording. He watched for any sign or movement. The song soon ended. He put his hands to his face, took a deep breath and slid them down slowly. His heart ached with a tugging sensation. "I don't know what else to do, Starsk." His trembling hand pushed the stop button, and he turned to meet Laura and Terry's gaze.

Laura rose to her feet along with Terry and embraced the distraught blond. The monitors seemed to change, the beats increased. The blond raised his head from his wife's shoulder and stood at attention.

"The monitors! Do you hear that?" His voice called out, and blood chilled.

The faint sound of someone clearing their throat, Laura wore a puzzled look along with Terry.

 _"_ _If a man could be two places at one time, I'd be with you. Tomorrow and today, Beside you all the way."_ The words not sung but spoken were faint and raspy as they left the conscious man's lips in the bed.

Hutch released his embrace and turned abruptly; his eyes bored toward the man in the bed and met bloodshot indigo blue eyes. "Starsky?

Starsky smirked weakly. "Who else would it be, ya big lug?" His hand gently caressed the wounded area on his chest. "Next time, bring your guitar and sing me the black bean soup song, will ya? Aren't ya goin to introduce me to your family?" The words weak but seem to paint a smile of relief on the blond's face.

Laura and Terry stood side by side and laughed. Hutch went to his friend's bedside and took his right hand and entwined his fingers.

"Welcome back, Gordo! Laura, Terry, meet my partner, David Starsky." The strangling worry no longer present as the words left his lips in excitement. He reached for the intercom buzzer for assistance.

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Hutch sat at his desk reviewing a file when a knock interrupted his thoughts. "Come in!"

The door opened and a somewhat healthy, yet still pale, David Starsky entered wearing his black leather jacket and jeans. He shut the door gently and turned to meet his partner's worried stare.

"What the hell are you doing here? You've only been out of the hospital a few days!" The blond rose to his feet in haste.

"I'm going stir crazy; I won't get in your way. I didn't drive. Huggy dropped me off." He made his way to the chair and sat very slowly and grinned followed by a wink.

Hutch glared at him as he slowly sat in his office chair. "You should be resting."

Starsky sighed and met the worried blue eyes that practically bored holes in him. "Was and still a mother hen, Hutchinson. Don't ya think it's time ya updated me on the case?" He raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

Hutch sat back and took a deep breath and closed the file folder in front of him. He sat back up and pulled the sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. The unease trickled through his body causing him to tense. He reached into the left drawer and removed a journal and extended it to Starsky.

"They found this in Little Louie's trench coat at the warehouse." The blond's voice trembled slightly.

Starsky hesitated as he looked at the leather bound book then took it. He opened it and glanced through it inquisitively and slammed it shut. His lips tightened, and shoulders grew rigid. He tossed the book onto the desk. "I can't, not right now anyways."

Hutch took the book and placed it back into the desk drawer. He rubbed his chin and sat back. "Nicky used it to his advantage. Arnie Monterose lists every hit, dates, and description of each hit. This journal is going to provide a lot of answers to unsolved cases dating back to the 50's."

Hutch rubbed his bottom lip with his finger and thumb. "According to Monterose, you were the intended target along with your mother and Nicky. Joe Durniack intercepted. Good old Arnie grew a conscience and refused to kill a kid." He took a long deep breath. "Your father apparently infiltrated Tommy Roper's ties to money laundering along with connections to three syndicate families."

Starsky's eyes looked away briefly as he took a deep breath. The tension appeared to leave his body slowly.

Hutch closed his eyes. He felt his partner's pain. He opened his eyes and looked at him. "I know this doesn't bring your father or Kenny back, Buddy. Nicky tried to do the right thing leaving you the book. Chief Norelli from NYPD has been looking for you. It seems the leads Kenny and his partner provided along with this journal have solved over twenty-six cases and brought down two high-profiled mob families on the East Coast and here." A sense of pride and accomplishment poured through his words.

Starsky ran his left hand through his hair and smirked. "I told ya he was a smart kid." He closed his eyes with heavy emotions weighing his heart. His eyes met his partners. "There's more?"

Hutch looked away and bowed his head briefly. He sat back and opened his eyes as his chair creaked loudly. "Chief Norelli apparently knows our past and asked me to convince or influence you to return to New York. He claims your job is there waiting for you along with numerous commendations including Kenny's." The message was delivered with admiration and sadness.

Silence hung in the room. Starsky fidgeted with his left eyebrow and seemed to stare off into space. Hutch sat up and moved the folders on his desk to a pile on the side. Starsky slowly rose to his feet; he walked over to the phone on Hutch's desk and began to dial. Hutch watched the odd behavior displayed by the brunet.

Starsky sat on the edge of the desk; he didn't make eye contact with the confused man at the desk. "This is Captain Starsky; I'd like to speak to Chief Norelli, yeah thanks."

Hutch stood and turned his back on Starsky; he glanced out the window. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled the photo of him and his partner. He rubbed his thumb as anxiety crept up his spine. The sadness overwhelmed him.

Starsky waited patiently and played with the telephone cord. "Chief Norelli, thank you, sir. I will be returning to New York once I have been cleared medically. No, I will however gladly accept. Thank you, sir." Starsky placed the handset on the cradle.

Hutch seemed a million miles away in thought. Starsky pulled his picture from his pocket and glared at it. The figure before the window didn't move or acknowledge he was off the phone. Starsky slid from the desktop and swaggered around the desk and approached the lost blond. The brunet carefully slipped the picture he held into Hutch's hand next to the picture he was holding. "Well Blintz, I won't need that anymore."

Hutch startled and turned to face the grinning brunet. "W-what?" The nervous stutter left his lips.

Starsky walked back to the desk and sat on the corner and crossed his arms. "I might need it when I return to New York, but ya can have it back when I return home."

Hutch stuffed the pictures into his pocket. "When you return home?" The crease between his eyebrows was present and vivid.

Starsky grinned ear to ear. "Well, that is unless ya don't want me to come back home?"

Hutch smiled as tears filled his eyes; he enclosed his presence onto his partner and squeezed his shoulder with his right hand. "You serious, you're serious, right? YES!"

The door to the office opened, and Terry and Laura entered. Hutch leaned on his partner and smiled ear to ear. Laura pulled her hair back and smiled. "I see you told Ken you are staying."

Hutch looked at his wife puzzled. "You knew he was staying?"

Laura approached her husband and winked. She gently kissed the brunet on the cheek. "Are you ready, Dave?"

Terry tied her hair back and chuckled. "Come on, Uncle Dave? You promised me I could drive your car."

Hutch glared at both his daughter and wife and then focused wide eyes on his partner. "Oh no, she is not driving that car, Starsky."

Starsky stood and swaggered slowly to the door. "I can't drive for another week; I need to get to my appointments."

Laura handed Starsky an envelope and kissed her stunned husband on the cheek and walked over to Starsky. "Uncle Al and Aunt Rosie's estate has been sold. I took the liberty to settle your mother's estate. Oh, you start work at Bay City PD as Chief of Detectives in four weeks."

Hutch stood by his desk with his mouth open, his eyes wide. "Chief of Detectives?" He closed his mouth slowly as a smile formed.

Starsky and the girls headed toward the exit.

Hutch appeared confused. "Where are you going? Shouldn't we celebrate?"

Terry adjusted her pale blue windbreaker and winked at her father. "Well ya see, Daddy, Uncle Dave's place needs an overhaul. The 70's vibe cramps his style, if ya know what I mean." She swaggered from side to side impersonating her Uncle Dave

Hutch nodded as he chuckled. "Sometimes I honestly think she's your kid, Gordo."

The girls walked out of the room as Hutch continued to smile and look at his partner. He bashfully ran his hand through his hair. "Are you sure this is what you want, Starsk?"

Starsky enclosed his presence and bowed his head briefly. "Yeah, I'm sure. Will ya go back to New York with me to accept Kenny's commendations?"

Hutch was slightly shocked but honored. "You got it, buddy."

Starsky turned to leave and stopped at the door, a mischievous smirk formed. "Hey, who do we trust?"

Hutch chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Me and Thee as always!"

Starsky exited the office slamming the door behind him which startled Hutch. "Starsky!" He shook his head and chuckled as he made his way to the window once again. He retrieved both sets of pictures and smiled. "Welcome back, partner!"

The End.


End file.
